


Four Ways Brandon Flowers Never Met Charlize Theron (With Ninjas)

by misura



Category: Crossfire (Music Video)
Genre: Crack, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-18
Updated: 2010-12-18
Packaged: 2017-10-13 22:47:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/142564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This sort of thing <i>never</i> happens to Brandon. As in: <i>all the time</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Ways Brandon Flowers Never Met Charlize Theron (With Ninjas)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bewize](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bewize/gifts).



> Requester indicated a desire for background fic. That part didn't work out, but uh, there's ninjas?
> 
> Any resemblance between people, events and bands in this fic and people, events and bands in what is commonly referred to as 'the real world' (not the TV-show, smartass) is probably intentional, but I'm just doing it for laughs.
> 
> [link to video](www.youtube.com/watch?v=5AhU12zC8fc&ob=av2e)

1.

This is what never happens:

Brandon's a bellhop in this really posh hotel (and he means posh like: he'd have to work five years before he'd have made enough money for _one_ night in their cheapest room. Before taxes.)

It's not a bad job, although the tips kind of suck. He gets lots of peppermints, sometimes bubblegum.

Still, it's sort of okay. Most of the time, he's bored out of his mind, but that's okay, too. It gives him time to work on the song that's going to make him famous (although recently, he's thinking it should be an album; he's got way too many good songs in his head to be able to pick just one).

Gives him time to think of a name for his band, too - because he's not one of those people who think they can do everything all by themselves; he needs back-up vocals and some dude who plays guitar and maybe someone to play drums and, of course, a really cool name.

So there he is, that Monday, minding his own business, when all of a sudden: ninjas!

"Which floor shall it be, gentlemen?" he asks, all polite-like, because, well, ninjas! (That's kind of a cool name for a band, he thinks - although there's this tiny thing missing. Like, it's original, but it's not _exactly_ right, like, you can't walk on the stage and say: 'Hey there, New York, we're _The Ninjas_ and we will rock you!' - that just sounds sort of lame.)

The ninjas look at him like he's a bellhop, which, well, he is. So no offense taken or anything.

"We are looking for a woman," one of them says.

"We're not that kind of hotel?" Brandon says, although heck, how would _he_ know? He can't even afford a room here, let alone room-service.

The other ninja pulls a sword (a _katana_ , the part of Brandon's brain that actually cares about that sort of stuff points out) and that's really sort of: "Whoa," Brandon says. "Easy there."

"The woman," the first ninja says. "Where is she?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Brandon says.

And then the elevator bell dings and the doors open, and bam! Dead ninjas! Hot, blonde woman!

Hot, blonde woman getting snuck on from behind by another ninja!

"Um," Brandon says, only before he can add something vaguely useful like: "Behind you!", there's a third dead ninja on the floor, and next thing he knows he's alone in the elevator with this hot, blonde woman who's just killed three ninjas and oh _fuck_ , he's going to die before he's even recorded a single song and this just isn't _fair_.

"Sixteenth floor, please," she says.

"Gotcha," he says. "So, hey, are you here for the World Trade Organization?" because if he's going to get killed by a hot, blonde woman, he might as well try to hit on her first.

"You could say that, yes," she says, and then she doesn't say anything anymore until they reach the sixteenth floor and he doesn't either, because if he's going to get killed by a hot, blonde woman, he might as well let her kiss him to death first.

The next day, he quits his job.

 

2.

This is what never happens:

Brandon is just walking around, minding his own business, not taking calls from people who think he should apologize to pretty much everyone in the world for pretty much everything he's said about them the last few days, which is just so not going to happen.

He calls 'em like he sees 'em, that's all. He's better than all of them, anyway, he and his band.

There's a guy selling hotdogs on a streetcorner, and Brandon figures he could use a bite to eat - the street's pretty empty anyway, and heck, the guy's got to make a living, too. The hotdog'll probably taste awful, but oh well. God knows he could use the good karma of doing something _nice_.

It's only a dollar ten, which is just, _seriously_? One dollar ten for a hotdog?

He hands over a five dollar note, tells the guy to keep the change because sheesh. Even if he's just bought the worst hotdog in the world, that's still ridiculously cheap.

So, of course, as he walks on and takes his first cautious bite (because, well, _one dollar ten_ ) it's actually good. It's great. It's delicious. It's the kind of hotdog you always expect to buy after you've seen a commercial, except that it never _is_ that kind of hotdog. Except that this one is.

His cellphone buzzes again, and for one crazy blissed out moment, Brandon actually considers answering it. He's got his left hand in his pocket already - his right one is holding the hotdog - when all of a sudden: ninjas! Putting a fucking throwing star ( _shuriken_ , that annoying part of his brain points out, sounding all pedantic) in his right hand and making him drop his hotdog.

"I was eating that!" Brandon says, because Brandon Flowers Does Not Whine. Or wail.

There's two of them, both coming at him with drawn swords ( _katanas_ ), which kind of seems like overkill, really, until the third one knocks him over the head, at which point Brandon figures the other two were just distracting him.

 

When he wakes up again, he's chained to a wall, which would be sort of kinky, except for the fact that two of the ninja dudes are taking turns kicking him, which is just such a turn-off that Brandon figures he's not here to play sexy games with some fans or something.

"Hey," he says, mostly because he figures saying something like: "Stop!" is only going to make him lose major coolness points. "What's the big idea here?"

"You have offended the honorable members of the band _Panic! at the Local Place for Dancing_ ," the ninja to the left says. And kicks him.

"You have offended the honorable members of the band _Find Out Boy_ ," the ninja to the right says. And falls over when someone shoots him with a crossbow.

It's her, of course.

The hot, blonde woman of his dreams.

"Hey," he says, even if it kind of hurts to talk.

She smiles at him as she fires the crossbow two more times - once to the left of him and once at the wall, only to have the arrow deflect and hit the third ninja, the one who's probably a _The Courage_ fan, and who will now never get to kick Brandon for saying they should get a better name.

"Want to go for a drink some time?" Brandon asks, because alcohol sounds pretty good, even if he's never managed to impress a woman while drunk. "Like, now?"

The next day, he decides to go solo.

 

3.

This is what never happens:

So Brandon's met this guy - Rupert Wainwright - in a bar somewhere, and he can't for the life of him remember what they talked about, only now there's this _song_ and it's supposed to be about _him_ , and what the hell is a guy supposed to do when another guy writes him a fucking song?

The answer, apparently, is getting kidnapped by ninjas. They don't kick him this time, or even knock him over the head too hard, only he still gets tied up and tossed into a van and next thing he knows he's in _Las Vegas_ , in one of those drive-thru wedding chapels people always get married in while drunk in fanfics, only to wake up the next morning and have some more sex.

Brandon isn't drunk, and he doesn't plan on getting married, either. Unless it's to the hot, blonde woman of his nightmares, who kicks in the backdoor to the chapel (the front door's always open) just when Brandon's about to say that no, he does not.

The pastor or whatever the guy is slips away while she's dealing with the ninjas - putting on a show, Brandon suspects, and damn, maybe he should try for 'coffee at his place' this time around.

"Marry me?" he says instead.

She looks like he's the cutest thing she's ever seen. "I don't - " she starts, which is bad, except then she changes it to: "I have nothing against same sex marriage."

"Yes! _Another_ thing we have in common," Brandon says. "Don't tell me we're not destiny."

 

4.

This is what never happens:

Brandon's in a meeting - a _business_ meeting, sort of, except that they're not talking about money or album sales or promotional campaigns on which he has to spend an evening with a sixteen-year-old girl without looking at anything below her chin. They're talking about the video for his new single.

The thing is: nobody's got any ideas that are any good, and Brandon - well, his mind's sort of somewhere else, because he's gotten them the song and it's great, it's perfect, it's going to still be around in a hundred years and nobody in this room has had to do a single thing for it. All they need to do is come up with an idea for a video that doesn't completely suck.

Four hours into the meeting, Brandon kind of catches on to the fact that it's not happening.

" - and then they kiss and it's all, you know, _symbolic_ ," someone is saying and seriously, Brandon is all for symbolism and all that shit, but when a kiss can't just be a kiss anymore, you're doing something wrong. (It can be meaningful, sure - like a 'God, I want to have sex with you right here, right now, never mind that you're tied up and hanging upside down' kiss, that's all great and cool and fabulous.)

He clears his throat. Nobody seems to notice except the guy next to him, who gives him this look like he's worried Brandon might be coming down with something. (All heart, these folks are.)

"So there's this woman and she keeps turning up to save my life," Brandon says.

He's a bit surprised anyone actually hears him, but yup, he's getting looks now.

"A nurse?" a guy with a goofy tie asks dubiously.

"Think less medical emergency, more action hero," Brandon says, and when it's a woman, he's probably supposed to say 'action heroine' but never mind.

"Like Buffy?" a guy sitting next to the guy with a goofy tie asks.

"Vampires are so overdone these days," the only woman in the room protests.

"She's got a katana and she's, you know, all kinds of bad-ass," Brandon says, thankful that someone else has staked the vampire idea because ugh.

"I like it," the woman says (he keeps forgetting her name; it's kind of embarrassing).

"Like it?" the guy with a goofy tie says. "I love it!"

"We should throw in some ninjas," the guy next to the guy with a goofy tie says.

 

So the video shoot goes pretty well - they get Charlize Theron to play the hot, blonde woman, which works pretty well, since Brandon figures you can't really go wrong by casting a hot, blonde woman to play a hot, blonde woman (it's not rocket science, right?) even if it's not as much fun to get tied up when you already know it's only for show.

They're doing an after-party or wrap party or whatever once the shooting's done, and he figures he'll go and be polite for a while. The guys they've gotten to play the ninjas are David, Mark and Ronnie - Brandon forgets who's who pretty much right away, but that's all right; not like he's ever going to see them again after tonight.

"So uh hey, you got a light?" David or Mark or Ronnie asks, holding up a package of cigarettes.

Brandon manages not say out loud that when you smoke, you should probably carry a lighter. "I don't think you're allowed to smoke in here," he says. "Better take it outside."

David or Mark or Ronnie sighs. "Think they'll let me in again, after? I mean, I'm not you, you know."

Brandon really isn't particularly keen on some alone time with a guy whose name he doesn't even remember but oh well, they did a good job at the video shoot and what the heck, it's only five minutes or so. "How about I come with? I could use one of those myself."

Management won't let him smoke, claims it's bad for his voice. Most of the time, Brandon knows they're right.

"Thanks, man." David or Mark or Ronnie looks relieved.

Makes Brandon feel sort of noble and virtuous and good about himself right up until the moment David or Mark or Ronnie is suddenly gone and he's getting kidnapped by three ninjas instead.

Story of his life.


End file.
